


#PrincessProbs

by equalsMCsquare



Category: RPF - Fandom, William and Kate RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equalsMCsquare/pseuds/equalsMCsquare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you consider the media portrayal to be a work of "fiction", then I think this fic is pretty canon to their portrayal.<br/>Also, expect smut later. I'll up the rating when I do.</p>
    </blockquote>





	#PrincessProbs

**Author's Note:**

> If you consider the media portrayal to be a work of "fiction", then I think this fic is pretty canon to their portrayal.  
> Also, expect smut later. I'll up the rating when I do.

We decided not to consummate our marriage that night. Something about 22.8 million people knowing what we would be doing, equally turned our stomachs, and made us slightly spiteful. Let them assume. And let them be wrong.

Like typical newly-weds, William and I are head-over-heels for one another, and couldn’t wait till after the ceremony for some peace and quiet. But when we were given that time, it felt too contrived, like some wedding planning maestro had decided it as such. and that would we please keep it within the allotted time, thankyouverymuch? We promptly fell asleep instead.

How do people face newly-weds typically? The best man smirks at the groom, the bridesmaids raise questioning eyebrows. As subtle as those sorts of things are at normal weddings, they’re simply nonexistent at Buckingham. No one directly looks at us, and everyone attends their daily duties, acting like marriages are followed by everlasting purity.

Isn’t it convoluted-- they think we became man and wife sometime during the night, but determinedly treat us as though we have lost no such purity. Meanwhile, we have not, and it is us who are smirking at them knowingly. Childish, but satisfying, when we’ve been moved around like pawns for the past several weeks leading up the wedding.

“TIME Magazine, BBC, or the National Inquirer?” Pippa whispers in my ear. She has a rather sarcastic streak, and it amuses me the way the press never caught onto it.

“Can’t you decide for me?” I beg her. She smirks at me. This is an old joke between us, and I already know what she’s going to say next before the words pass her lips.

“But you’re the one who chose Prince Charming. Didn’t anyone tell you about all the strings attached?”

Of course they did. And I knew I’d be able to handle them. But somehow, as things progressed, I began to see less and less of William, and more and more of the planning staff. I assumed this would all change after the wedding.


End file.
